


certain dark things

by seabiscuit



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Skype Sex, Witness Protection, honestly this is just an ad for video conference calling, lena luthor the gay mess, maine, sorry - Freeform, unrequited love turned requited love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-30 06:55:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12103200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seabiscuit/pseuds/seabiscuit
Summary: Lena Luthor knows it's going to be a bad day when she wakes up to her star chart app notifying her that Mercury is officially in retrograde.__Or, Lena Luthor almost gets killed, again, and winds up in witness protection for the first time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you thank you THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for the stupid amazing response to this fic. I've been having a blast writing it.
> 
> hmu on tumblr: seabiscuits-us!

_I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,_  
_or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off._  
_I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,_  
_in secret, between the shadow and the soul_

Pablo Neruda, Sonnet Xvii

**_i. November_ **

Lena Luthor knows it's going to be a bad day when she wakes up to her star chart app notifying her that Mercury is officially in retrograde. It's not that she really buys into astrology per se--Jess had installed the app for her during a late night at the office when, after one two many scotch neats staring at the sky she’d wondered aloud about her moon sign--it's just that some of it is really uncanny. The pop up is underneath a few other notifications: a missed call from a telemarketer, Words With Friends letting her know that it’s her move in her game with Jess, and four consecutive texts from Kara.

Those, she deletes immediately. It’s been a week since they talked, a full week since Lena had planted maybe the world’s least well-advised kiss on the mouth of her best friend in a wine induced delirium and gotten hit with the nicest _I’m not gay_ speech she’d ever heard. It had taken Jess two hours to talk her down from buying tickets to move back to Metropolis, and another complete day to convince her it wasn’t a good idea to take three months off to go to Okinawa and meet with investors. She swears Jess must have some kind of notification system because every time a Kayak ad so much as pops up on her Facebook sidebar she gets a text reminding her that she _shouldn’t even think about it, Ms. Luthor._

The numbers on her phone tell her that it’s exactly 5:30 am, the winter sun not yet showing through the closed blinds of her bedroom. Lena clunks the phone face down on her night stand and slithers out of bed, clicking on lights on as she pads her way to the bathroom. As her apartment begins to stutter to life little by little, she makes a conscious choice to try and shed her bad feelings, visualising every inch of insecurity and embarrassment falling away. She needs 10 minutes free of considering whether she’s being a bad friend by ghosting Kara, or berating herself for doing the stupid thing in the first place. She tries to bury it under a shower, a fresh outfit, and two strong cups of coffee. It almost works.

By the time she arrives at her office Jess has her schedule ready, a latte on her desk, and a 30-point lead in Words With Friends. “Get the head of Zynga on the line,” She says as she passes her assistant without looking up from her phone “Gherkins is an obscene word and I want it stricken from their dictionary.”

“A gherkin is simply a small pickle, ma’am.” Jess replies to her boss’s back as she strides into her office. Throws on more lights, her winter jacket hitting the arm of the sofa and her latte gingerly settling on a Frida Khalo coaster next to her laptop. The sun is just beginning to rise over the city skyline as Lena settles into her chair and savors one last moment of peace before her day takes off full-tilt.

She’s halfway through tapping out a message to Jess asking her to google how long Mercury is going to be in retrograde when the first explosion hits and knocks out her hearing. In shock, she stares down at her half formed message, ears ringing out in the sudden silence. There’s another explosion, and everything goes black.

***

She opens her eyes briefly and tries to sit up. Her equilibrium is shot, her ears are shrill, and the only thing she can hear with any clarity is the sound of her own breathing. She’s laid out in the rubble of what used to be her office, attempting to stagger up on her elbows. The chaos around her is playing out as if in a silent movie and--yes, Supergirl is here, _Kara_ is here, face stormy as she catches sight of Lena amongst the wreckage. Lena wills her mouth to open, wills herself to shout out. There’s iron on her tongue and it won’t go away.

Kara is coming towards her and Lena extends her arms, free of shame.

Everything goes black again.

 

***

Lena wakes up at the DEO on a stretcher and her first instinct is to scream, but her throat is too raw and it comes out as a ragged hack. She’s still in her outfit from this morning, which has been creatively tailored by the explosion. It takes her a full moment to take stock and realize that Alex is there, offering her a bottle of water, and Maggie is there too, behind her, looking grim.

They both look grim. Lena wonders offhandedly if they know Mercury is in retrograde, if she should tell them. She takes the water in a shaky, sooty hand. Her nails look atrocious, caked in dirt. She wants her voice to come back so she can ask to go to the bathroom, to wash up.

When Alex opens her mouth and the first sentences are _Lex is trying to kill you_ and _witness protection,_ she drops the water bottle, foolishly. It splashes up, against her bare shins, and rolls away under the stretcher somewhere. Lena places her dirty hands in her lap, palms up, almost beseeching. She schools her expression, but she knows her face must be dirty too, and her tears must look like highlighter streaks on her cheek. She’s hit with a fresh bout of humiliation when her first instinct is to croak out, “Where’s Kara? I need to talk to Kara, where is she?”. Her body and her mouth are kinetic, urgent, foolish, betraying her with every word.

Alex and Maggie share a look, and Lena bottoms out all over again.

***

 

She wakes up that morning as Lena Luthor and ends the day as Ellie Kapatelis. According to her state ID she is 27 years old, a natural blonde, green-eyed, an organ donor, registered at 57 Langley street in Bangor. She squints at the picture of herself taken a few minutes before, trying to discern if there’s any distress evident on her face. Ellie stares back at her, eyes crinkled, lips slightly parted and not even a ghost of a smile playing on her mouth. Alex had told her not to try to smile, like they would say at the DMV.

“Can I at least go back to my apartment and get some clothes?” She plucks at a loose thread on her blouse. It’s been all but destroyed and her skirt has been raggedly hemmed by about three inches. There’s a few errant bleach stains on her shoulders. She feels all the grief that had exploded forward earlier morph somewhat blandly into shock.

Alex shakes her head, not looking up from the tablet that she taps on furiously. Maggie stands behind her, arms crossed and face set in a grim, straight line. “We need to convince people that you were kidnapped. There’s going to be an NCPD investigation, maybe even FBI. It’s going to be suspicious if it looks like you had time to pack before you disappeared.” Alex finally looks up, scrutinizing her for a quiet second. “Anyway, you’re supposed to be Ellie Kapatelis now, not Lena Luthor. I don’t think that two-thousand dollar Gucci skirts really scream _freelance writer from Bangor, Maine._ ”

Lena balks. “I like my skirts.”

“Whatever. Open up that duffel bag.”

She does, finding inside a few T-shirts, underwear, a pair of jeans and practical black Vans sneakers. There’s also a flimsy wallet with a large, cartoon print of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Big Blue Ox. She peers up at Alex disbelievingly.

“Where did you even find this?”

“You can get anything on Etsy. Look inside.”

She shakes it open and finds what looks to be ten hundred-dollar bills and a credit card with her new name on it.

“Try not to use the credit card too often, it shouldn’t be traceable but you never know. Use the money to buy new clothes when we get to Bangor.”

Inside the duffel Lena also finds a small laptop, an iphone in a case covered in pictures of what look to be little trout, several forged personal documents including a passport, and a small plastic case full of toiletries. As Lena tangles her hands into a soft, faded T-shirt that proudly states _I caught crabs in Maine_ she feels something in her chest simply up and boil over. It’s like a symphony is playing too loud in her head, her face is hot, and tears are slipping out and shamefully darkening the fabric of the shirt in her lap. The last time she cried like this she was four years old and had just been told she would never see her mother again, and while the feeling she has now isn’t the same intensity, it’s a similar animal. There’s something hollowed out and lost in her, something frightening, something vast. All she can think of are the texts that she still has unread on her phone from Kara, and the phone calls. What did they say? When Kara turned to her, plain faced and covered in soot and blood, what had she been thinking?

All of it, all of her foolish vulnerability, all of the lies that she had been telling herself like, _I can make it work here_ and _maybe she loves me back,_ they had all lead her to this point. This must be the ultimate punishment, the toll she has to pay for her tresspasses, her near-fatal grasp at happiness. Lena doesn’t realise that she’s been doubled over, head buried in her lap, until she feels the bed dip beside her and Alex’s hand on her back.

When she peers up, she sees Alex looking back at her with uncertainty and discomfort plain on her face. The older woman pats her twice in a stilted _There, there_ kind of way. Lena straightens, flushing even deeper and wiping furiously at her eyes.

“How long?” She asks. Alex’s face pinches up further in a way that tells her she’s not going to like the answer she’s about to get.

“A few months, maybe more.”

The sound that escapes Lena’s mouth is somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

“And I can’t--nobody can know?” Alex shakes her head slowly. “Not even Kara?”

“The more people who know the more the investigation is jeopardized. We’re keeping Kara in the dark.” She pauses. “Do you have a plan? For L-Corp? I can have Winn plant something on your servers if you want, for Jess to find, so she knows what to do while you’re gone. He can make it look like you wrote it a while ago in case.”  
“I already have one, Jess knows how to find it.” Lena had written up a detailed plan for what to do with the company if something ever happened to her ages ago. She had a vice president, a nice boy named Andy, who would be ready to step up in the interim, and of course Jess helping him at the helm. She hopes it will be enough.

If this was it, if this was really the beginning of her new life, Lena is seized with the need to simply rip off the band-aid. She can’t spend one more minute here, in National City, knowing that Kara is out there, and Jess, and the fresh remnants of her day. The lights in her apartment would still be on, half a pot of coffee left sitting and her bed covers still  mussed as if she had barely just left them. The idea of remaining this close in proximity to the comfort of her life is absolute and suffocating. “When do we leave?”

Alex looks briefly at her watch, then back at Lena, face set with resolve. “Now, if you’re ready.”

 

***

In Bangor, Alex helps her pick out a wardrobe that she describes as “Wilderness lesbian, but kind of chic”. Really, it’s a few men’s flannels, some jeans, more t-shirts, sweaters, a puffy vest that was more Alex’s idea than hers, winter boots, and roughly a million pairs of thick socks. A nice woman at Nordstrom’s helps her pick out a few pairs of long underwear, the kind with button-up butt flaps that make Alex actually laugh out loud, and a large winter coat that throws Lena into a rather convincing cut of the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man.

She changes clothes in the bathroom of a McDonalds while Alex is ordering them burgers and cokes and coffee. It’s a four hour drive to Snake's Canyon and already close to seven in the evening, they’re going to need all the fuel they can get. Lena finds herself taking her time in the bathroom, which is surprisingly immaculate for a fast food restaurant. She sits on the toilet seat and carefully peels off her socks, jeans, and vans, replacing them with a bottom layer of long underwear, dark skinny jeans, and green woolen socks with little christmas trees on them. She had wanted to simply throw in a few Hanes packs into their cart and be done with them, but Alex had insisted on more jovial pairs. She was right, Lena thought. Having them on made her a little happier.

On top went a checkered button down and dark green sweater, and her vans were replaced with a pair of insulated burgundy snow boots that came up to her ankle, the socks just barely poking out. It occurs to Lena as she straightens her shirt-collar in the mirror that this is the final shedding of her old skin. Her blonde hair is pulled into a high, messy bun, soon to be tucked under a hat, her eyes are heavy and tired. When she returns from the bathroom Alex is looking similarly haggard but chattering almost chipperly as they make their way out to the old Toyota truck that they had picked up at the airport.

Lena isn’t sure who she would have chosen to go through this ordeal with, but in this moment, she’s filled with relief and gratitude that it’s Alex.

They take a moment before beginning the drive to scarf down part of dinner. The only noise in the cab of the truck is quiet chewing, ice shaking in cups, and sipping through straws. Alex had turned on some local talk radio show that nattered on quietly in the background. It’s not comfortable silence persay, but not quite awkward either.

Alex’s iPhone rattles in the cup holder a few times in quick succession. It grabs Lena’s attention, and her heart drops nearly all the way into her stomach when she see’s Kara’s name in the notifications.

 **7:32** Alex seriously where are u? Turn on your find my friends or I’m telling mom

 **7:32** I want to help you look for leads

 **7:32** I’m going stir crazy here

 **7:33** We have to find her. you have to let me help you find her

When she looks up, face flush, her eyes meet Alex’s. The older woman has very clearly caught her staring. Her face is plain and inscrutable, betraying absolutely nothing about how she feels or what she knows. Lena has never disclosed her crush on Kara to Alex in so many words, but Alex is an FBI agent and Lena knows she’s not exactly been _subtle._ Lena finds herself wondering how Alex feels about lying to her sister so brazenly and about something so deeply consequential to Kara, a woman who had lost her entire world, and who was  having another precious thing now hidden from her in plain sight.

“Is she going to hate us when she finds out?”

Alex sucks on her teeth and moves her gaze straight ahead. The parking lot is dark and illuminated only by a few billboards and the light from the McDonald's, giving the moment an almost otherworldly feel. “Yeah. I mean probably. But sometimes you have to do things that are really, really hard, because they’re the right thing.” Her face crinkles up in consternation, gaze unfaltering from some unknowable focal point outside the truck. “Kara doesn’t always understand that. She struggles with it. But someday, after all of this blows over, she _will_ understand, I know it. Kara doesn’t know how not to forgive, even when it goes against her worst nature.”

Alex doesn’t leave any room for argument and Lena couldn’t have really disagreed with her anyway. She turns up the volume knob on the radio, cranks the key in the ignition, and sighs almost silently as the car rumbles to life beneath them. They have an almost impossible amount to road to cover before they can rest.

 

***

 

The house is quiet, covered in snow, and somewhere between the woods and the main strip of Snake’s Canyon.

(“There are no canyons in Maine,” Lena wrinkles her nose. “And I hope not enough snakes to justify the name.”

Alex only shrugs noncommittally.)

When Alex drops her off, she helps her take her duffle bags into the house and then shows her on her phone how to find her contacts and reach her or Maggie, as if Lena has never used an iPhone, or something.

“This house has a secure connection,” She explains, “So we can facetime, or text, or whatever.”

When the conversation runs out, Alex gives her a gruff hug and leaves her a flier to volunteering at the local library. “Might help you pass the time,” Are her parting words, followed by, “Good luck, Ellie.”

And then, Lena is alone.

 

**_ii. december_ **

 

She meets Grover Dudley her second week at the library. It’s a particularly frigid Monday, the kind that made Lena wonder why she hadn’t simply chosen to hull herself up in the safe house for the next three months instead of being _active._ The drive down to Faye O’Leary Hafford had been hellish, and she had spent most of the morning defrosting the truck and hammering away at the ice on her windshield like a woman possessed.

When she arrived at the library, Mrs. McKessie immediately put her on Christmas decorations duty. The last thing Lena wanted was a reminder that she was about to spend another holiday alone under an assumed identity in a strange town. Still, she put on a brave face and accepted the box of tinsel with what she hoped was a convincing smile.

An hour later, Grover comes in with an older woman and a blast of frigid air behind them heralding their entrance. Lena is standing on a stool tinseling the hell out of a bookshelf when they enter. The woman, who Lena assumes must be his mother, has him gripped by his wrist and is talking to him in a low, clipped, and fierce tone. Grover looks defiant, still bundled in his outer shell and face pinkened by the unforgiving cold outside. He’s lanky and a small 11 or 12 years old, but still gaining height on his mother who isn’t finished reaming him out for something Lena can’t decipher.

“.....you stay _right here_ until I’m done with work and come to get you or I swear to God, Grover Dudley, there’ll be hell to pay, you hear me?”

Grover wrenches out of her grasp and stomps off without saying goodbye, throwing his hat and jacket into the wet clothes bin by the door. His mother stands at her full height and sighs, passing a hand over her face and blinking up, finally taking notice of Lena’s presence in the room. She’s young-looking enough that Lena considers for a moment that she may have read their relationship wrong. She looks more like a sister, or a cousin. Even bundled up, Lena can see that she’s pretty in a kind of plain way. Her eyes are round and doeish and she has an almost startling smatter of dark freckles across her face and forehead. Her face crinkles and reddens and her mouth opens and closes a few times before she simply turns on her heel and exits the way she came in, having decided to say nothing.

There’s about 10 minutes of silence in which Lena finishes with the tinsel and returns to the checkout desk to read the Stephen King novel she’d been fighting her way through. As soon as she’s cracked it open, the boy re-emerges from the stacks, sweater bulged and hiding what are obviously several books. He’s making a beeline for the front door and his winter gear.

Lena yells “Stop right there!” because the closest thing she has to experience with this kind of situation are old cop shows from the 70’s and really, what kid steals _books_ from a _library,_ which is a place where you can get books for free, anyway? It’s all very confusing and she’s only reacting in the moment.

Grover continues his hasty exit, grabbing out his jacket and hat from the wet clothes bin and trying his best to wrangle them on while still keeping his books under his sweater with limited success. Lena hops out from behind the circulation desk and reaches out, grabbing him by the scruff of his sweater. He turns to look at her, jacket hanging haphazardly off one arm, and she finally gets a good look at this face. He’s fair and almost pretty, with a slim, feminine face and a shock of curly, ocherous hair. Being grabbed seems to take him by surprise and the books come tumbling out, landing on the floor in an undignified heap.

“Lady, let me go or I’m going to call the cops.”

“What? I’m going to call the cops on you, you little shit! You’re trying to steal books! From a library!”

“You’re assaulting a minor!”

Grover shakes himself free before Lena can respond and literally _books it_ out of the library, almost falling flat on his face in his haste to leave. His jacket is still hanging off one arm and he’s forgotten his hat on the floor. Lena, still crouched from where she’d had him, looks on in absolute shock. She glances down, touching his hat and moving her attention to the pile of books at her feet. She picks one up and studies the title-- _Boy meets Boy._ Her nose crinkles and she moves to the next one, _Will Greyson, Will Greyson,_ and the last _Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe,_ which has a proud silver badge signifying that it’s won the Stonewall Book Award.

This is how Lena discovers that the Faye O’Leary Hafford Library in Snake's Canyon, Maine has a rather robust LGBT reading section.

This is how she meets Grover Dudley.

 

***

All Lena wanted when she returned home that night was a hot shower, a glass of wine, and to crawl into bed and sleep the evening away. By the time she stepped into her house, the evening chill was seeped into her bones. This was one thing about living up north that she was sure she wouldn’t get used to. No better many layers you had on, you still somehow came out on the other side freezing to death.

Dinner was two pieces of turkey and cheese on a folded over piece of bread and two undressed leaves of kale. She had a text from Alex on her phone asking her to facetime around 10 that evening, which left her with an hour to shower and get into her comfy clothes. When she lived in National City, she used to love solitude--crave it, almost. Until Kara Danvers came blowing into her life she relished every moment she spent alone, be it quietly in her apartment reading or tinkering on some new invention, or working long hours with only Jess’s intermittent interruptions. But now--there was an undeniable loneliness to this life. Something about Kara Danvers’s friendship had touched her irrevocably, ruined her for the way she used to live. As Lena finished her sandwich and rinsed her plate, she found herself not for the first time consumed by a sense of longing. To see Kara’s name come up on her phone, for the tangible relief of her. To be able to call her, see her, hear her laugh.

And to think, she had almost thrown it all away for a stupid kiss. Kara probably wouldn’t want to speak to her when she got back, anyway.  

The first knock takes her by surprise in the bathroom. She already has her joggers and thermal off and in a heap on the bathroom floor, the water running and heating up slowly. She pauses, underwear around her knees, waiting to see if the person will leave.

There’s three more knocks, in rapid succession.

Lena rucks her underwear back up, then her joggers, then her thermal. She turns the water off roughly, padding into the kitchen and swiping her taser off the table as she does. The knocking continues, louder and more aggressive as she creeps toward the front door. Lena can feel her heart thudding in her chest, face red with adrenaline, hands shaking as she pulls back her front curtains and sees--

“Hello?”

The woman from the library, bundled to the gills, waves at her through the glass. Somewhat dumbfounded, Lena loosens the chain to her front door with a quiet _snick_ and opens it just more than a crack, allowing in a blast of frigid air.

“I’m sorry, um...is this the home of--are you Ellie Kapatelis?” The woman extends a mitten-clad hand. “It’s Nora Dudley, from the library.”

“Hi.” Lena says dumbly.

There's a beat of impenetrable silence in which Nora’s face screws up in a mask of discomfort. When nothing more from Lena seems forthcoming, she barrels on. “I’m sorry to disturb you this late at night it’s just, I left my son at the library this morning and when I came by after work to get him he--well he wasn’t there.”

“I remember your son.” Lena comments archly. “He left after I caught him trying to take some books without checking them out. He didn’t come back. At least, not while I was there. That was around...two o’ clock, if I had to guess.”

Nora’s chapped lips are set into a grim, straight line. “Grover is an idiot,” she says plainly. “But I love him, he’s my son, and he hasn’t come home.” She's becoming visibly distressed, lower lip a tremor and a little dampness gathering around her eyes. “The family therapist said that the next time he ran away I should let him come back on his own, and I’ve been _trying,_ but I can’t stand the thought of going to bed without knowing--”

“Do you have any idea where he might have gone?” Lena takes out her phone and briefly looks down at the time; 9:45. She really doesn't have time for this. And yet--

“There's an abandoned cabin on the town line that a lot of kids go to, the last few times he left that's where I found him.”

“Do you have a car?”

Nora shakes her head quietly, running a hand over her nose. “It's in the shop.”

And damn Lena with her stupid bleeding heart. She grabs the truck keys out of the dish and reaches for her parka “I just need to send a text to a friend, and then we can go.”

\---

They find Grover in a cabin, freezing his dumb ass off in a sleeping bag on the floor with some old comic books and a candy bar that he’d stolen. For a second Nora’s face contorts with something so heavy that Lena really thinks she might haul her son up and hit him, then and there, right in front of her.

Miraculously, it passes over her like a wave and settles into something softer and sadder. Instead, she murmurs “Let's go home.”

\---

She has 10 missed texts from Alex.

10:15 Lena wtf???

10:42 SOS u need to face time me NOW young lady

10:50 I’m so serious. There's something I need to tell you.

\---

She drives Grover and Nora back to their house in tense silence. it's begun to snow lightly, Lena’s headlights barely cutting through the darkness and the shower ahead. She rolls down about a mile of packed road before coming up on a small but well kept double-wide motor home, lights still on and curtains drawn.

Grover wretches the door open before she's turned off the car and leaps out, stomping inside the house. Beside her, Nora heaves a great sigh. She leans the totality of her lithe body forward against the dashboard, arms folded and facedown.

“Please come inside and let me make you a drink.” She says finally, muffled by her arms. Lena shakes her head, thinking about all the ways Alex is going to make her pay for this later.

“I really can’t--”

“ _Please._ ” Nora looks up. “It's more for me than it is for you. You did me a real solid tonight. Just come in and have a beer so I can wipe this whole night off my conscience.”

Lena purses her lips and looks down at her phone. 15 unread messages.

\---

Halfway through their second beer, Lena learns that Nora conceived Grover on her 14th birthday, has no living relatives, and makes a living working at the town’s only diner in the main strip. She learns that on his good days Grover is sensitive, bookish, and kind to animals, and on his bad days--

“Well! Now you’ve seen him on a bad day I guess.” She laughs somewhat ironically and takes another pull from her beer. “He’s a good kid, I swear. He’s just kinda mixed up.”

“Aren’t we all.”

“Amen to that, sister.”

They touch the necks of their beer bottles. In the background, there’s a bang followed by the sound of rummaging.

“Guess Grover’s still up.” Nora sighs. “What I really need is somebody to watch him regularly during winter break, but nobody in this town would touch that with a 10 foot pole.” She shakes her head. “It's a shame though, it would be really damn helpful.”

Damn Lena Luthor with her stupid bleeding heart.

“I could do it,” She offers, and when her common sense finally catches up with her motor mouth she continues, “I have a lot of time on my hands these days, since I pretty much only write at home. And...I could use some help around the house. If he wanted to come over during the day, he could.”

The look Nora is giving her is a curious mix of horror and requital. “You’re not like, a serial killer right? Like that clown from that Stephen King movie who eats kids ‘n shit?”

Lena laughs, shakes her head. “I’m just new in town and I could use the company.” It’s not until she finishes speaking that she realizes what she’s said is actually true. It might be the truest thing she’s said since she arrived in Snake’s Canyon. Nora’s eyes soften with understanding and her lips quirk at the edges.

“Listen Ellie, you can have him for keeps if you want him.”

\---

She pulls into her driveway half past midnight and drags her tired body into the house. She has so many text messages on her phone she’s surprised it hasn’t given up and died out of sheer protest.

Once in the house, she shucks her clothes until she's down to a tank top and panties and trudges into her room, flopping into the mess of quilts on her bed. Lena grabs her phone and, without bothering to read the daunting stack of texts, opens up Alex’s contact page and hits the FaceTime button.

There are one or two tinny rings of the phone connecting, and then Kara’s face in front of her, full and bright.

Lena feels like she's just been kicked in the stomach. There’s a tense beat of silence, Kara sucks in a deep breath as if to say something and immediately begins to cry. Big, fat wet tears that Lena can see even through their pixelated connection.

“Kara--”

There’s a shout and Lena hears what sounds like a door hitting the wall. She sees Alex half sprinting in the background, and everything goes back. Her phone fades to Alex’s picture and _Call time 00:43._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Any time LL. Also, if you do sort it out with Kara will you tell her to please keep it contained to the bedroom and stop renting porn from the library like a freak?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all the response to this fic has been OUTRAGEOUS and i want to say thank you to everybody who has taken the time to read/review/kudos. I promise I will go through and respond to all of them but I've been busy with work and cranking this chapter out.
> 
> Second of all, this got out of hand, like, fast. So here's a chapter that's double the length of the first one and I've added a chapter to wrap things up as...it just wasn't going to happen in two lol. Enjoy!
> 
> Also if you want to say hi on Tumblr my url is Seabiscuits-us!

“And here is my...linen closet. I keep towels in here, extra sheets, um...other things, like pillow cases. I think there are some Christmas decorations in that box.”

Grover isn’t listening, of course. He’s been checked out since Nora carried him into Lena’s bungalow all but by the seat of his pants and told him if he tried to run away she was going to rent his room out to Leroy at the diner. There’s a pissy look on his face and he reeks of cigarettes, which reminds Lena so acutely of herself at his age she finds herself softening just a little more at the edges.

Not the kind of reaction he’s going for, she’s sure.

“I’m going to be in the kitchen, writing, you’re free to do whatever. There’s a TV in the living room with all the channels. I could actually really use some wood chopped for the fire stove, if you can get around to it before your mom comes and gets you.”

He looks up at her like she’s just told the world’s most unfunny joke.

“Listen lady, it’s nice of you to try and help my mom out, but I’m not staying here.”

Lena arches an eyebrow, turning to face him with arms crossed over her chest. Although he’s only 12, he comes up nearly to her nose, and she finds herself looking directly into his flinty eyes. “I can’t stop you from leaving, but you’re going to hurt your mom’s feelings, you know that right?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You don’t know shit about my mom.”  
“Okay!” Lena throws up her hands and edges out from the linen closet, padding softly over to the kitchen. There’s a reusable grocery bag sitting on the counter next to her laptop that she begins to rummage around in. “Before you go though, I have something for you.” After a second more of digging, she gains purchase on what she was looking for. A book, one of the bunch that Grover had left at the library. She flashes him the cover, watches his face crinkle, sets it down, produces another. There are three. “You left these at the library. You can take them now, if you want. I checked them out for you under my name.”

For 30 seconds, Grover just stares at her. He crosses his arms, uncrosses them, drops his bookbag on the ground at his feet. His mouth opens and closes several times as if he wants to say something but is thinking better of it.

“Are you going to tell my mom?” In stark relief with his usual bravado, what he says comes out in an unsure whisper. Lena watches his throat bob with a harsh swallow. He’s got a posture like a cornered animal, eyes flicking between her and the books she’s set on the counter between them. Lena’s heart aches--for him, for herself. She’s been like a raw nerve since she left National City, like a leaky faucet, everything affecting her deeply and spilling out into the open. She wonders if it shows, if other people can smell the weakness on her.

“Grover, no, never.” She coos. “I would never say anything to anybody. But it’s not--you’re not doing anything wrong.”

He kicks at the ground a little bit. “I’m afraid if I take them home my mom will find them.”

“Then keep them here. You can spend all day reading if you want, I don’t care.”

“Why are you being so nice about this?”  
“I’m _gay,_ Grover, and I did the same stuff when I was your age. You think you’re the first kid to try and steal books, or hurt your mom’s feelings, or run away from home, but you’re not. I pretty much wrote the book on it, actually.”

“You’re _gay?”_ Grover balks. “You don’t look like a dyke-- _hey!”_ He rubs the spot on his head where Lena’s just chucked a crumpled up piece of paper at him, looking shocked. Lena rolls her eyes.

“Don’t say dyke.”

“Why can you say it?”

“Because I _am_ one. Next question.”

“Does that mean I’m allowed to say faggot?”

Lena shrugs. “If you want. If it makes you feel good.”

“Other people call me that.”

“Kids at school?”

Grover sighs, and Lena watches his shoulders slump. That’s the thing about kids, especially at this age--there’s no hiding anything, no covering up of emotion. Lena feels as though she’s watching Grover let down his walls in real time. He moves to sit at one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Adults too, sometimes.”

“Well, that’s not right of them to say that to you, Grover.”

The child looks at her ponderously--like she's the first person to have said anything of the sort to him. Her urge to reach out and hug him is strong but knows it won’t be received well, so she settles for, “How do you feel about lunch? Before you go, I mean. I’m feeling a little hungry.”

His eyes light up and he nods, reaching for the books on the island and sliding them over. He’s reading the back covers as if deciding which one to start first.

“Yeah, thanks. Just before I go.”

 

***

Grover eats three fried bologna sandwiches and washes it all down with a coke and some chips before Lena is even halfway through her first. It’s a comfort food that she had learned to make from one of her first nannies, who would cook them for her in secret when Lillian was gone. She tells herself she’d gotten the supplies because the leafy green selection in Snake’s Canyon’s only grocery was lacking, but she can’t deny the feeling of warmth she gets just from smelling them on the stovetop. Grover seems happy about it too, all but licking his plate when he’s finished.

“You keep checking your phone. And...not doing a lot of writing.” He observes archly. He’s decided on the top book and has it open in front of him, elbow on the counter and head cradled in his hand. He’s looking at her with more observational power than any 12 year old ought to posses.

“Mind your business,” Lena tuts. “I’m expecting a message from a friend.”

Grover seems to take that at face value and turns back to his book. Lena looks back at her phone with it’s no unread messages and no new notifications.

She had texted Alex no less than 30 times since Monday night and received only one response.

_She needs time._

Brief and cryptic and probably exactly what she should have expected from Alex Danvers. She’d been trying to pretend, even to herself, that she wasn’t being driven absolutely mad since the FaceTime incident. Or that seeing even the briefest glimpse of Kara’s face after a month hadn’t shattered any facade of being _over it_ she may have been trying to put up. She had even broken a promise she’d made to herself and set up two news alerts on google--one for Kara Danvers, and one for Supergirl. She may have even considered getting a subscription to CatCo magazine if it wouldn’t have looked too suspicious.

After holding out for so long looking at the news surrounding her own disappearance, Lena was absorbing all of it that she could. There were news clips on YouTube and Buzzfeed, and a very flattering profile of herself in the Times which she read with great interest and little humility. Most fascinating of all, there were interviews people were giving in the wake of her disappearance, including--

_Supergirl._

Lena peers over the top of her computer to check if Grover is paying her any attention. He’s not, so she plugs in her headphones and hits _play_ on a video titled _Supergirl Gives Comment on Lena Luthor’s Kidnapping._ It’s dated for a week before Monday, before the conversation. There’s a 30 second long ad for paper towels, and then an image of Kara in her Supergirl suit so sudden and clear Lena feels all the breath leave her body at once. She looks perfect, of course. Kara is all voluminous blonde curls, steely gaze, form fitting suit--

Lena has to shake herself out of it when the interviewer starts talking, shifting her focus intently to the video.

“Supergirl, do you have anything to say to the people who have Lena Luthor?”

Kara fixes her gaze on the camera and Lena notices her eyes are wet. When she speaks, her voice is shaking discernibly.

“We will find you. And if she’s hurt, if there’s even a single hair on her head out of place, there will be hell to pay. I promise you that.”

Lena shuts her laptop.

 

***

 

“Holy shit.” Nora is looking at Lena like she’s done a very impressive magic trick. They’re standing in her kitchen, Nora still in her winter boots and jacket, peering over into the living room and at her son. Grover is fast asleep on the couch in front of the fire, shoes kicked off and lanky legs dangling from the edge. He’s got the coffee table pulled up close and the remnants of an afternoon snack piled haphazardly in front of him. “What did you do, spike his soda with Nyquil?”

Lena snorts. “I think he’s in a food coma. I forgot how much teenaged boys love to eat.”

“Do you have a kid? You look so young.”

She smiles tightly, gaze fixed on Grover. “I have an older brother. I remember him being this age. It really wasn’t that long ago.”

“Well, I’m sorry if he ate you out of house and home.”

“It’s no problem, he actually--” Lena pauses and swallows thickly. “He reminds me of a friend back home. Back in um, Bangor. She’s like a human garbage disposal.”

“I hope he wasn’t too much trouble otherwise.”

“A perfect angel. You were right what you said that night. He’s a good kid.”

The younger woman hums and nods. “Yeah. I just wish things weren’t so hard for him all the time. He’s out there, no dad, queer as a three dollar bill.” Lena looks startled and her companion laughs. “Don’t ask me how, but a mother knows these things. I love him all the same, of course.”

Nora moves to crouch beside Grover and runs a hand through his hair, stirring him. They talk in hushed tones for a moment and then Grover is gathering his things into his bookbag and Nora is _hugging_ her--which, it’s been a long time since anybody but Kara did that. Lena is only a little bit surprised to find herself squeezing back and agreeing when she says she’ll drop Grover off again tomorrow at noon. Grover is behind them saying _seeya, Ellie,_ easy as pie.

After the door shuts behind them Lena walks quietly into the living room and begins to gather the remnants of Grover’s snack from the table. The house has become eerily quiet in his absence. Without anything  else to occupy her mind she drifts again to Kara, it’s default setting these days. Lena closes her eyes and sighs, resting a hand on the back of the couch. She thinks of Kara, eyes damp as she speaks to the camera. Smiling at her over brunch, hair loose, laughing easy. Kara’s mouth, hot and needy and damp under hers. The way she seemed to forget herself for a moment, allowing Lena to press her back into the couch of her office, tracing her tongue along the seam of her mouth. They had kissed like that for the briefest and most fevered moment of Lena’s young life, mouths slanted and open. It was messy and intimate, and until Kara had pulled back with the wet sound of their lips separating, Lena had really thought it might escalate. She had imagined unbuttoning Kara’s pants and pressing inside her, rolling her hips against her hand, swallowing her moans with her mouth.

But, well, it hadn't turned out that way, had it?

Her phone ringing cuts through the silence as if she had willed it with her thoughts. Maggie's face fills the screen of the phone and Lena hits the green accept call button hastily.

“Maggie, what the fuck?” Are the words that come tumbling out of her mouth without her realizing. Maggie appears to be sitting on the couch in Alex’s apartment. She has a beer in the hand that’s not holding the phone and she rolls her eyes.

“Nice to see you too, LL.” She replies, frustratingly casual. As if the last two days just hadn’t happened and this is a normal check in call on a normal day. Lena slumps into a barstool.

“What the hell has been going on? It's been radio silence from you guys since--”

“The cat clawed its way out of the bag? Yeah, we’ve had some damage control to do.” She rubs at one of her eyes with the back of her hand. Lena notices that she looks tired--exhausted, really. “I shouldn’t even be calling you, honestly. But it felt wrong leaving you in the dark.”

“So let me ask again--what the hell is going on?”

“Well let me start with, um, everything was going great. Before Monday. I know you’ve been steering clear of the news but Kara has been out there, y’know, looking for you. Really intensely. From day one she’s been like,” Maggie makes an amorphous gesture with her hand, sloshing a little beer out of the bottle. “Totally single minded. Which, great. Her schtick has been keeping Cadmus’s heat off of us which was the whole thing in the first place. The less she, or anybody else knows, the better. And Cadmus has been exposing themselves by surfacing in little bits to try and find you, exactly how we thought they would. It’s only a matter of them making a fatal slip and, bam. We’ve got Lex and you can come home.”

“I’m sensing a but.”

“Yeah, well. The week before, Kara had been kind of...losing her cool. At first she seemed so confident we would find you but the more we kept coming up with nothing--anyway, I went on her computer and her ‘most visited’ pages are all your Facebook, your Linkedin, your Wiki, blah blah. Twice, I caught her watching a video of you giving a speech at a conference and just bawling her eyes out. And! She kept noticing incoming calls from ‘Ellie Kapatelis’ on Alex’s phone, perceptive little shit. Alex told me earlier that week that Kara confronted her about cheating on me.”

“So when she picked up the Facetime--”

“She thought she was going to give Alex’s side piece a talking-to, yeah.”

“Jesus.” Beer suddenly doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. Lena moves off her barstool and to the fridge, grabbing a can loose from a six-pack. Thank God she’d had the wherewithal to stock up on her way home from the library the previous day. She sets the phone on the counter as she cracks the tab, listening as Maggie’s ambient voice continues to filter up.

“Honestly, I think Alex was about to tell her anyway. The situation was admittedly kind of untenable.”

Lena has to actively remind herself to not ask too much about Kara. She figures, one question and that’s it. This is about the mission and not about Supergirl, how she’s feeling, if she’s okay, is she mad at Lena? Are they allowed to talk now, too? What speech? She hopes it was the one in Cincinnati, she’d worn that black dress that made her boobs look great and had been having the best hair day of her life--

“LL, you still with me?”

“What? Yes.” Lena grabs the phone from the counter and moves to flop down on the couch, taking a long draw of her beer. “What’s the next move?”

“Well, Alex has been folding her in. Like I said, right now it’s just a waiting game for Cadmus to drop their ball. And Kara needs to put on a really good front so they don’t suspect it’s been us who’s hiding you. But I don’t think your cover is in any danger, yet.”

Is now the time to ask? How can she make the question sound as casual as possible? Can she fold it into another, more general question about the mission? Like a question taco?

“Also, I really shouldn’t be telling you this but.” Maggie exhales a laborious sigh and finishes her beer, reaching forward to set it down on what Lena presumes is a coffee table. “She wants to talk to you. Kara, I mean. But she’s not sure you want to talk to her, she kept talking to Alex about you hating her.” Maggie raises one perfectly manicured eyebrow. How is she so good at that? “You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?”

Lena clears her throat. “No. Nope, I wouldn’t. That’s so--that’s weird.”

“Mmhm. Okay, so I’m going to give you her phone number, if you guys want to sort out this,” There’s that amorphous hand-wave again. “General weirdness, be my guest. You have a pen and paper?”

She is miraculously able to gather herself after falling face-first off the couch in her

haste to get a notepad. To her credit, Maggie only cackles a little. Lena takes the number and bids Maggie a good night, thanking her for the information.

“Oh, and LL?” Maggie says before hanging up. She sucks on her teeth for a moment before continuing. “I don’t know what was going on with you and Kara before all this craziness, but I have a hunch. I just think you should take it slow with her, and try to keep an open mind. The Danvers girls are smart, but they can be a little thick in the head too. You know what I mean?”

Lena thinks she might.

 

***

She doesn’t call Kara right away. It’s about 8 PM in Maine, which means it’s only 5 PM in National city, which means Kara is barely off of work. She definitely needs a minute to settle before Lena just, calls her out of nowhere. She considers texting her first, but thinks better of that as well. What would she even say?

Instead, she has two more beers and watches reruns of The Real Housewives of Orange County. When she was younger, college-aged, she used to watch it with a sense of dread, knowing that’s what Lillian had wanted for her life. A placid, obedient daughter, married to a rich man, with nothing but free time on her hands to spend money and throw martinis in the faces of her friends. Recently, watching it had been somewhat of a liberating act--a reminder of what her life had brushed up with and, ultimately, diverged from.

Jack was the last vestige of that hope, really. Her final toss at liking men before she finally threw in the towel. He was her college love--and she did love him, truly, but not in the way that he’d hoped. Jack had actually been the one to figure it all out before she even had her finger on the pulse of it. When he’d found several Suicide Girls magazines hidden peculiarly under her dorm mattress, she’d seen the understanding on his face and it stayed even through her explanation that _I just admire the aesthetic, Jack, don’t be obtuse._

She’d worked out the story laying face-down with the magazine on her stomach and her hand down her pants, a sheen of sweat and post-orgasm glow on her skin. She’d repeated it to herself, again and again, until she could faithfully recite it back to him like it were true.

Lena makes a reminder to herself to visit Jack’s grave once all of this is over. She gets another beer and tries to push the thoughts to the back of her mind. On the television screen, Shannon says _Karma’s a bitch--so I don’t have to be one!_ She cracks the beer open, and for the sixtieth time that night punches Kara’s number into her phone.

This time, Lena actually hits the call button.

The phone rings one time before Kara picks it up. She doesn’t say anything however, and if it weren’t for the faint sound of her breathing on the other end of the line Lena might have thought the call was dropped. At the edge of the couch, TV going listlessly on in the background, heart stopped in her chest, Lena is pure and buzzing and scarcely in control of herself. The beer is fizzing quietly in her can, and outside a gust of wind causes the trees to whisper against each other before dying down again into silence.

“Are you watching The Real Housewives right now?” Her voice is staticky, but it’s there. Lena leans forward with her arm on her knees and lets out a breath that’s damper and shakier than she intends. It’s only when she hears Kara faintly say _oh, Lena_ that she realizes she’s crying. The breath she sucks in is meant to be calming but it returns a broken sob, a release.

“I missed you so much, I--oh my God, I missed you.” It’s desperate and tinny, even to her own ears. There’s a small part of her that’s resisting this embarrassing outpouring of emotion. When she was a child, Lillian always told her that doing simple sums in her head would stop her from _pathetic crying,_ and she’s tried 5 + 5, but it’s just not working this time. It feels _good,_ she’ll admit later. It feels cathartic and real and tangible.

“Please don’t cry! Oh my gosh--hold on. I’m going to hang up and FaceTime you, okay?”

Something is garbled out that might be _okay_ and Lena takes the phone away from her ear when the line goes dead. Seconds later, it lights up again with Kara’s name. She hits _accept_ immediately.

Kara’s face is framed by the warm glow of her bedroom. Her hair is down and a little damp. She has no glasses on, but an oversized NCU crewneck. It’s the kind of look that Lena would find distractingly attractive if she weren’t having a total histrionic episode. The older woman sniffles, and Lena realizes belatedly that she must be crying a little bit, too.

“I’ve been a mess. I’ve been such a mess without you.” Straight to the point, then. Kara’s voice is a little warbly, but clear and articulate. Lena supposes that she might have been thinking about what she would say to her for some time, rehearsed in her head. “And I’m so _mad_ at Alex, but I’m happy she kept you safe.”

“Pull it together, Danvers. We can’t both be emotional messes right now.” Lena laughs wetly.

“I can’t help it.” Kara is wiping at her eyes. “I thought I would never see you again. I really started--I started to think that. That maybe something would happen to you and,” Her voice is taking on a hysterical pitch and her mouth is trembling even as she speaks. “And the last thing I would have said to you was that _horrible_ speech about--”

“Don’t think about it.” Lena interrupts her quickly. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. I’m here, and I’m safe, and I’m not going anywhere. Well--except back to National City, hopefully soon.”

Kara is nodding furiously. There’s some general shuffling and the camera wobbles around. When it settles, she’s on her side in her bed with her head resting on her arm and the camera held out in front of her. Lena has calmed down enough that it’s finally encroaching on _distractingly attractive._ She can see the back side of her bedroom, with her ironic-but not really NSYNC poster, fairy lights, and a window overlooking the city skyline. Lena wants to be there as acutely and encompassingly as she’s ever wanted anything in her life.

And it’s deeply, deeply problematic.

“But I _am_ thinking about it.” She continues softly. It sounds like an admission. “I think about it--I think about it every day. But I want to respect that you don’t want to talk about it so. Okay.” Kara takes a deep breath.

“Can we just--I know this is stupid, but can we start over? Just for now?” Lena implores. “What I really need is a friend. I don’t know if I can deal with anything else. I don’t know if crying as soon as you picked up the phone was a tell, but I’m not sure if I’m handling this whole _witness protection/on the lam_ thing well.”

“I’m sure you’re doing great. And I’ve heard Maine is charming this time of year.”

Lena snorts. “I’m sure some would argue that, yes.”

“Is that a flannel you’re wearing? Is it Gucci? Did my sister make you go undercover as a lumberjack?”

“Oh my God, you’re worse than Alex.” Lena moves to get comfortable on the couch. She mutes the TV and curls up in a position much like Kara’s. It’s too late and she’s too emotionally exhausted to try and school the fond look off her face. “No, I’m not undercover as a lumberjack. But I am volunteering at the most darling local library…”

***

Lena wakes up the next morning on the couch. Her phone is on the floor and the Call Time tells her that she’d fallen asleep talking to Kara. She grabs it, holds it aloft above her, checks her text messages squinty-eyed and sleep heavy.

 **8:02 AM [Kara]** that flannel looks rlly good on u btw

 **8:10 AM**   **[Kara]** call me later? I’m off work at 530.

 **8:30 AM [Kara]** i can’t wait to hear your voice again

***

The next week passes in a blur of activity and confusion. Grover comes over nearly every day and warms up in increments. By Saturday, he’s watching Real Housewives with Lena on the couch and chattering about school, and Nora, and their life together in the little house that they share.

Lena can’t help but be a little endeared by it all, as well as increasingly conflicted. She knows that eventually--and hopefully, very soon--all of this will have to end. She’ll go back to her life, back to National City, which is exactly what she wants. Still, sometimes when she sits with Nora and Grover, laughing about some stupid joke, she finds herself wondering if she can't have it both ways.

And then there’s Kara. Her renewed presence in Lena’s life is a reminder of how complicated a balancing act their relationship has always been. They haven’t talked about what happened before, the kiss or any of it, per Lena’s request, but Kara has always been infuriatingly open with her affection and continues to do so. She’s even more attentive now than she was before, a fact Lena chalks up chiefly to the threat on her life and subsequent disappearance.

That's an easy way to rationalize it, anyway. It’s become a little harder to actually believe it after days of Kara texting her non-stop, sometimes updates about the mission but mostly little details about her day to day life. For instance, what she’s eating for lunch that day or Snapper’s Temper Tantrum Du Jour.

 **4:45 PM [Kara]** I wish you were here…all I wanna do rn is snuggle on the couch and watch Netflix

 **4:47 PM [Lena]** I'm sure Alex would be glad to. Or...Mike maybe

 **4:48 PM [Kara]** Tru but neither of them are who I want right now.

It’s been a lot of that, which, confusing. It feels like Kara is testing the boundaries of...something.

“Earth to Ellie.” Lena startles back into the present, which is cards with Grover on her living room floor. “Are you texting that girl again?”

“None of your business. Got any twos?”

“Go fish. It is so my business. You’re my friend. Got any sixes?”

Lena heaves a sigh. So it's come to this. She has two friends on heaven and in earth, a 12 year old boy from Maine and a woman who’s rebuffed her advances but now seems to be sending her increasingly brazen text messages and a litany of mixed signals. She takes a six out of her hand and gives it to Grover.

She was foolish for thinking they could move past this and start over as if it never happened.

“She's a friend of mine from Bangor.”

“Are you guys dating?”

“I said friend.”

“Okay. You guys just text a lot for friends.”

“Grover, you’re 12. What do you know about how much adults text each other?”

Grover just shrugs one shoulder, laying down the rest of his cards in pairs and effectively ending the game. As Lena is shuffling the deck back together he wanders into the living room, peeking around aimlessly. “So, do you like her? As more than a friend.”

“It's a little more complicated than that. A lot more, actually.”

That night Nora hangs around after throwing Grover the keys to the car and shooing him out, looking a little suspicious. Lena is putting on a kettle of tea when she says “So I have this friend who bartends at the diner, Viv, and she’s single and...y’know.” Nora raises her eyebrows in a way that Lena is meant to understands means _gay._

 _“_ Nora--”

“Okay, she's technically single because her girlfriend is in prison but hear me out--”

“Nora!” Lena interrupts, a little louder than she'd originally intended. Nora looks a shocked by her outburst, so she tries to continue as quickly and gently as possible. “Thank you for your help but...I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

“Look, Grover told me about that girl in Bangor. Frankly, it doesn't sound healthy.”

“Grover is 12.” It's more said to the heavens than anything else. “And like I said to him, there’s nothing between me and Kara. We're friends. She's straight.”

“If there’s one thing I've learned from getting knocked up at 14 and keeping the kid, it's that boundaries are important. I don't text my straight girlfriends all day! And something tells me there’s more to the story than _that_.”

“You and your son are incorrigible. Please leave my home.”

She does not long after that, and Lena is left alone with her thoughts.

***

Lena is nursing on a Yuengling as she listens to Kara’s animated recap of her day, starting from the breakfast she’d had that morning (“I ate a dozen danishes _and_ a half dozen bear claws, which is a lot even for me.”) and ending with the somewhat harrowing tale of how she’d had to start rotating bodegas to get her after-dinner snack at because the shopkeepers were getting suspicious (“For people who don't speak a whole lot of English they sure do pick up on a lot, golly.”)

By the time she’s finished Lena is curled up in bed, beer finished and phone tucked between her shoulder and ear. She’s shed most of her clothes down to a plain tank top that's just a little too small and panties with little daisies on them. A nest is formed out of her many quilts and pillows and she plants herself squarely in the middle of it, feeling warm and relaxed and thrumming with _something._ The sound of Kara’s voice is like a balm to her day and she relishes in it, wants to curl up inside it forever.

“What are you doing?” Kara asks. Lena hears her stifle a yawn on the other end of the line.

“I'm in bed. It's kind of late here, and I told Mrs. McKessie I’d come to the library early tomorrow.”

“Mmm. Sounds nice. Send me a Snap?”

That’s another thing. There have been pictures. Dozens and dozens of pictures. Lena isn't sure if it's technically kosher for her to have a Snapchat account on this phone but Alex had assured her that the connection was secure and Kara was her only friend on it anyway. Lena considers her current state of undress for a moment, considers the kiss and then Kara’s recent mixed signals.

“One sec.” She says and opens the app.

The picture she takes isn't too risqué. It’s positioned from above, Lena’s on her back and it’s doing good things for her overall figure; especially in the boob department. It's also just enough to show that she’s not wearing pants without it being like, the center of the photo. Just a peek of the daisies on her panties and a little bit of creamy white thigh. She prays to God it looks casual and then she hits send.

“Did you get it?”

There’s total silence for thirty seconds and then the sound of Kara clearing her throat. Lena feels the phone buzz against her ear and moves it away to look at the screen. Her eyebrows shoot above her hairline when she sees a Snapchat pop-up notifying her that Kara has screenshotted her picture.

Interesting.

“Yeah! Looks...comfortable. But isn't it a little cold it Maine for no pants?”

“The house retains heat surprisingly well. Grover and Nora actually just left so I’ve been trying to unwind a little. No pants is part of it.”

“Oh fun! How was the visit?”

“Great. Grover’s really warming up to me, I think. He kept trying to inquire about the state of my love life.”

“Oh?” Kara’s voice is pure piqued-interest-but trying to play it cool.

“Yeah, and Nora got in on it when she came to pick him up. She tried to set me up with the bartender at her diner.”

“Are you going to go for it?” It's hard to tell without seeing her face but if Lena didn't know better (and she _does_ know better, right?) she would say Kara sounds a little miffed.

Very, _very_ interesting.

“No, Kara. I'm here to lay low, not start a Tegan and Sara cover band with one of the locals.”

Her friend audibly exhales. Later on, when she reflects on this night, Lena blames what she says next on the Yuengling.

“You sound relieved.”

“What?” Kara’s voice is high-pitched, confused and a little cautious.

“Are you relieved that I didn't want to go on a date with Viv?”

“No--I--what?” She’s testy now, defensive. “First of all, it's none of my business. Second of all, I told you, I’m not--I don't like you like that.”

“Well you have a funny way of showing it!” In spite of herself, Lena is testy now too. This isn't the first time a straight woman had engaged in marginal but ultimately feckless flirtation but it is the first time that said straight woman had been gaslighting her with friendship. The alcohol and the heat of the moment are combining into something heady. Lena is feeling bolder and more outraged by the second. “Calling me, texting me this--this--flirtatiousness _,_ sending me pictures--”

“That’s what friends do,” Kara argues.

“I think you’re confused about that, I really do. You know I have feelings for you, feelings that you ostensibly don’t return, and that I’m in a vulnerable place right now, and I think you know this isn’t appropriate behavior.” She’s met with loaded silence, and barrels on. “This is exactly the kind of thing that made me think you might like me back, when I kissed you, and yet you just keep doing it. I like you Kara, very, _very_ much, but I don’t care to be lead on, not by you, not by anybody.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t--I can’t do this right now. Goodnight, Lena.”

There’s a soft click. Lena pulls the phone away from her face and sees that the call has been disconnected. A small voice in the back of her mind says _what has gotten into you?_ But another, larger part of her feels proud for putting up long-needed boundaries. She takes a moment to pass a hand over her face before schooling herself back together, placing her phone on her night stand, and flicking off her bedroom light.

 

_iii . january_

 

Lena doesn’t speak to Kara again for another month.

It passes in something like a blur. She volunteers at the library, she sees Grover and Nora--spends Christmas with them, even. She buys Grover a few new books, Nora a nice bottle of scotch, and receives a beautiful cashmere scarf in return. If she wells up a little bit, feels her heart tighten as if in a noose, she does a fine job of hiding it. Later, after Grover’s fallen into a candy-and-ham coma, Nora pulls her aside in the kitchen and whispers to her that Grover has been saving up _all month_ to buy her the scarf, and that he’d picked it out special for her. “I’m so happy to have met you.” She murmurs, resting a warm hand on Lena’s shoulder. “I can’t even express how much.”

Her heart has been breaking slowly over a period of weeks. The small voice in the back of her head telling her that she misses home, misses Jess, and being busy, running her company and Kara, Kara, _Kara_ is getting louder and louder with each passing day. She’s begun to struggle even with getting out of bed and making coffee in the morning. And now this, to have found two people so unexpectedly who she cares about so much, and who she’ll eventually have to leave. The burden feels almost too much for her to shoulder on her own.

Christmas night she spends in their guest bedroom, a little drunk and a lot sad. She stares at a picture Kara had sent her a week before and cries into her pillow quietly until she falls asleep. There’s no right answer to the question in her heart, only mourning, even after she comes homes home it’s an ache that’s going to last. All she can do is breathe through it, feel the loss move through her until finally, finally, _hopefully_ it passes out the other side.

Alex and Maggie call her once a week and keep her updated on the status of the mission, almost entirely more of the same. They never mention Kara and if they know anything about what happened that night, they don’t let on.

On New Year’s Eve, she’s sitting at the safe house when she has the distinct feeling that she really thought she’d be home by now. It’s been two months--almost three significant holidays, and no end in sight. In all of her calls, Alex hemmed and hawed about the progress they were making. It seemed like there was no solution immediately forthcoming. It’s the first time Lena considers that she may be there for years, living as Ellie Kapatelis, detaching more and more from her old life.

She cries more often than ever. She quits her volunteer job at the library. He won’t admit it to her face, but Lena knows Grover starts coming over earlier to make sure she eats enough for breakfast and has enough coffee going that she’s able to roll out of bed. All of the worst parts of her nature that she’d been prone to but able to subdue in National City are catching up with her bit by bit, day by day.

On the 29th, Nora invites her to come with her friends to Portland and celebrate New Year’s Eve. She declines, citing a deadline for work. In reality, of course, it wouldn’t do for her to be seen anywhere outside of Snake’s Canyon, particularly in a large-ish metropolitan area. Grover, having been on his best behavior all month, is allowed to stay home alone for the evening, which leaves Lena by herself in the safehouse. On the 31st the celebration starts with a nip of whiskey in her afternoon coffee and Fried Green Tomatoes on the TV in the living room. Par for the course for the last few weeks, she doesn’t wake up before 11 AM and spends most of the day in a robe, picking at food and still somehow not eating enough.

Maggie and Alex FaceTime around 2 PM, just as the movie is wrapping up. She doesn’t bother trying to put herself together before picking up.

“Happy New Year’s Eve, LL--holy shit are you in a bathrobe? Isn’t it like, 2 o’clock over there?” Maggie looks sweetly confused and so does Alex, positioned beside her on the couch in her apartment.

“I’m observing the holiday.”

“Okay, enough small talk.” Alex interjects brusquely. “We actually have some big news.”

“ _Two_ pieces of big news.” Maggie amends. Her companion gives her a somewhat withering sidelong glance before continuing.

“One piece of big news. Cadmus surfaced last night.”

“What?” Lena suddenly feels exponentially more sober.

“Yeah. I don’t want you to get your hopes up--it could still take weeks to track down Lex and take him out, if we’re even able to execute an op before they’re onto us. But,” She exchanges a meaningful look with Maggie.  “this is the most promising news we’ve had since November.”

It’s exciting, but Lena knows better than to let her hopes get out of hand. “This is big news, agents.”

“And there’s something else we need to talk to you about.”

“No! Nope, I am not getting involved with this.” Alex stands up from the couch, throwing her hands into the air. “You guys can sort this out between yourselves, but I’m leaving. Happy holidays everybody.” She exits the room in a huff, leaving Maggie behind rolling her eyes.

“What’s this about?”

“It’s about Kara, duh. Who else.”

“I don’t want to talk about Kara right now.” Lena takes a long sip of her spiked coffee. “Or, ever again, for that matter.”

“Oh don’t be a big baby. I know something happened between you two. Kara won’t tell me or Alex _what_ exactly it _was,_ and I was actually pretty confused about it until a couple of nights ago.”

It’s Lena’s turn to fix Maggie with a withering stare. She’s a little drunk and needs to keep the buzz going until she falls asleep--if God is willing, before 10 PM--and there’s a _Twilight Zone_ marathon about to start on SyFy with her name written all over it. There’s just not enough time in her schedule for this unfortunate conversation.

“She’s been moping around since December and acting all squirrely, too. Checking out a lot of weird unmarked DVDs from the library and hiding them in her couch cushions, that kind of thing. And then Thursday night, Alex gives me her key to Kara’s to grab a shirt she’d left there during her last movie night, she said Kara would be at the DEO and of course in hindsight I realize I should have texted her, but--”

“Detective, is there a point to this unfortunate story?”

“Right. So I come in and Kara is on the couch watching TV, which is normal. But the TV is playing lesbian porn and she has both her hands in her pants, which is less normal.”

In the background, somebody sounding like Alex lets out an anguished cry. Maggie’s head pivots towards the source of the noise.

“What, Alex, I’m just telling her what happened!” She turns back to Lena, rolling her eyes. “So it’s me, and her, and these two girls on the tv screen are just totally railing each other. Not what I would have pegged Kara as being into but it’s always the quiet ones I guess. So I’m thinking to myself, Kara isn’t gay! In fact, she’s pretty aggressively heterosexual, and I’ve never had reason to question that, until…”

Lena feels as though this is the part of the story that’s coming back around to her and she’s not sure what to think of it. Her mind is stuck firmly on the image of Kara with her hands in her pants, watching an--adult film. A lesbian adult film. Her straight friend Kara Danvers relieving herself to gay porn.

“But she’s been low-key lezzing out since she met you, and _high key_ lezzing since you lost your mind and kissed her.”

Right, of course she’d told Alex and Maggie about that. She’s a fool for holding on to even a modicum of hope.

“Honestly I don't really know why I'm telling you this, except that previously I assumed that Kara is straight and has been trying to let you down easy but lately I'm not so sure. And now I'm thinking that you guys had a fight about it and it’s throwing her into some kind of gay shame spiral. Am I warm?”

Lena is quiet.

“Right. I thought so. For what it's worth, after all of that, I told her she should talk to you. Whether she really will or not, I don't know. But I have to admit I'm kind of rooting for you crazy kids.”

“Thank you, Maggie.”

“Any time LL. Also, if you do sort it out with Kara will you tell her to please keep it contained to the bedroom and stop renting porn from the library like a freak?”

 

***

Grover calls her at 8 to ask what temperature he should preheat the oven if he wants to make a frozen pizza from Aldi’s.

“Try 350.” Lena suggests. “Do you need me to come over?”

“Nah, I want to show my mom that I got this.”

“Okay. Try not to burn the house down.”

They hang up amicably and Lena leaves her phone in the kitchen as she pads into the spare room to look for a blanket. There’s a fire going strong in the living room but it's a particularly brisk night. Lena would never have thought it was possible for Maine to get colder than it already is, but she has a hunch that January is going to prove her wrong.

Her phone is buzzing when she emerges, blue comforter wrapped around her shoulders like a cape. She picks it up before glancing at the screen.

“Hey Grove, do I need to call the fire department?”

“Um, hi.”

She notices two things at the same time. One, it's not Grover, but a very nervous looking Kara Danvers sitting criss cross applesauce in front of a computer screen. Two, she looks so stupidly hot Lena almost hangs up and forgets about the whole thing as a self-preservation instinct. She’s in a pair of high waisted cotton American Apparel running shorts that Lena had told her were a good idea, when she was young and naive, and a white crop-top.

Oh, and no bra. Definitely no bra.

Lena is gripping her phone so hard she’s surprised it’s not been turned into dust.

“Shoot, I knew this was a bad idea, I should never had listened to Maggie--” Kara seems to be rapidly losing her nerve as Lena stares on in silence, cemented into place.

“Kara, what's this about?”

“I wanted to, um.” She pauses and takes a clarifying breath. “I wanted to apologize. And say...you were right. You _are_ right. About most things--almost everything, actually.”

The information Kara is giving her is most certainly hitting a wall in the processing department. Dazed, she moves to the couch, slumping down and rubbing at her temples.

“I'm not sure exactly what you’re trying to say.”

“Okay, let me start from the beginning. I never had a lot of, um, female friends. I was super weird in high school so I never had like, sleepovers or anything like that. I know it's not an excuse but in a lot of ways you’re my best friend and one of the only...women I consider myself really close too. Ah, other than Alex, of course.”

She clears her throat and looks resolutely at the camera before continuing. “So I think when I started to have feelings for you, I wrote it off as normal friend stuff between girls. Alex told me that female friendships are naturally more intense so I didn’t really think about it too much, the hand holding and texting and all of it. I loved spending time with you. Love. I love spending time with you.

And then, when you kissed me it added this...weird extra dimension and I wasn't sure how to feel. I had never thought about you...sexually before, to be honest, and suddenly it was all I could think about. But then I was like, could this just be a fluke? Like, am I trying to make myself like her because she likes me? As far as I know I'm not attracted to girls y’know? So I held on to that.”

Lena doesn't realize that she’s been holding her breath until she starts feeling a little dizzy. She exhales deeply and Kara chuckles. She’s shifting around a little on her couch, and of course she looks so fucking cute in those little shorts.

“But I am. Attracted to you. I am very, very attracted to you. And I don't wanna keep pretending I'm not.” Her voice is deep and quiet and so _sure_ and goddamnit if Lena doesn't feel it right between her legs. “I know I’ve been an idiot but if you want, when you come home, I would be interested in... _e_ x _ploring_ this thing between us.”

“I would love to explore you.” As a sentence, it's not great, but it's all she has. “I mean, um--” they both giggle nervously, Kara shifting her gaze down and tucking a frizzed strand of hair behind her ear. Static is flowing between them, Lena is positively alight with it. In her mind she’s reaching out to Kara, tangling the soft pads of her fingers in her hair, sucking the lobe of her ear in her mouth and scraping her teeth along the pliable ridge of it. She’s trembling with potential energy that rolls from the top of her head to the bottoms of her feet.

“I think I would like that too.” Kara responds, her voice soft.”

“I have to ask and I'm so sorry but--is this in any way connected with the porn you've been renting from the library?”

There's a deep groan, and Lena sees Kara cover her face and fall forward dramatically “Maggie did _not_ tell you about that!”

“I'm afraid she did, although in sparing detail, thankfully for you.”

“It’s just--I just--”

“I'm really just teasing Kara, you don't have to explain anything to me you don't want to.”

“No. I want to be above board with you from now on. I’d honestly never thought about how two women have sex before, and I was curious I guess. How it all would work. And still trying to figure out if it’s...what I wanted.”

“And is it? What you want?”

“Hold on.” Kara moves to lay on her side and scoot her laptop closer to her. She's propping her hand on her elbow and the other is draped casually over her waist. Lena is treated to a close-up view of her torso, her face, and the tops of her thighs. “Yeah it’s um, yeah. I’d want that.” She bites her lip and pins Lena with the most intense stare she’d been on the receiving end of in years, through a computer screen or no. “I was actually thinking about you when I was watching it.”

The mood shifts into something much headier than before. Lena is still buzzed enough to feel a little loose and bolder than usual, and she wonders if Kara hadn't partaken in anything before this video call as well. She notices, to the detriment of her sanity, that Kara’s index finger is slowly dragging along the soft, somewhat pixelated skin of her thigh as she waits for Lena to respond.

“Me?” One word making it out of her mouth feels like an honest miracle. “What did you see in the video that you liked?”

It’s a challenge and an invitation wrapped into one very loaded sentence. Kara’s fingers are continuing their holy path up her leg, closer and closer to the inside of her thigh where she begins to play with the hem of her shorts.

“You have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“Cross my heart.”

“I liked the kissing.” Lena catches the pink of her tongue darting out to lick her lips. “It was really open and intimate. And I liked it when they took of their clothes and pressed their bodies together--” There’s a pause, a self conscious laugh. “I feel stupid.”

“Please don’t.” The overwhelming urge to shove her hand down her pants and touch herself to the thought that Kara was touching herself to the thought of Lena touching her is gradually untethering Lena from this mortal plane. That coupled with the hungry look in Kara’s eyes, that is. “I want to hear more.”

There's more nervous giggling and Kara’s body is twisting around on the couch, burying her arm in the crook of her elbow for a moment before resurfacing. “Thinking about it is turning me on.” She admits. Her hand, the tricky one, has migrated to fiddle almost absent-mindedly with the waistband of her shorts.

“Do you want to touch yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Go ahead.” Lena’s not really sure if she’s asking for permission but it feels like the right thing to say. As soon as she does, Kara’s fingers dip into her shorts and her face twists in a way that’s going to haunt Lena’s dreams for many nights to come, she’s sure of it. “Can you--will you take off your shirt, too?”

Surprisingly eager, Kara uses her free hand and wretches her crop top over her head. Of course she looks like a Greek painting of a goddess, all abs and cheeky, perky upside down teacup breasts. She wants to suck on them.

Did she say that last part out loud? Kara’s strangled moan tells her yes. Because God is good, Lena can see her knuckles working under the fabric of her shorts.

“Did they--did they eat each other out, in the movie?”

Kara nods her head furiously, hand picking up it’s pace.

“Did you think about me licking you like that?”

“Oh Lena-- _yes,_ I did, _yes--”_

 _“_ Do you want me to--”

Just then, there's the sound of a door opening and Maggie’s distinct voice saying “Hey Karaaaaoly shit not again--”

Kara karate kicks the laptop off the couch with a broken screech and the call ends. Panties soaked and still buzzed, Lena sinks into the cushions and sighs. At least the shower in this house has a detachable head.

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My face is melting off but it's done! Big ty to everybody who's stuck with me for this whole thing, this started as an excuse for Kara and Lena to bang on skype and was only meant to be a oneshot ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also, to everybody asking if you can actually rent porn at a library: your local public library is a wonderful place full of secrets and weird erotica, and that's a fact

It’s no longer an uncommon occurrence for Lena to glance out of her kitchen window and see Grover outside shoveling her walk. Nearing the end of January, the days are bitterly short and bitterly cold, and Grover has long since gone back to school for his last half of eighth grade. Still, most days after class she finds him outside chopping wood near the shed or clearing her steps, bundled up in a thick flannel jacket, scarf, and a hand-me-down trapper’s hat, his bicycle discarded somewhere in the snow-covered front yard.

She puts a pot of water on in anticipation and cracks the window over the sink just enough to call out of. “The walk looks good Grover, why don’t you come inside?”

He looks up, bewildered for a moment, and smiles cheekily when he sees her. She watches him toss down the shovel and jog eagerly up her front steps. There’s the telltale sound of the front door opening, several items of wet clothing hitting the floor in the mudroom, and then the young boy bounding into the kitchen.

Lena looks over her shoulder to get a good look at him. Since November, he’s shot up like a weed--he’s just as tall as her now, maybe a hair taller. His hair shades darker as the days get shorter, and while still towheaded there’s streaks of brown that run down from his roots. Under his winter shell he’s wearing a sweet teal jumper with holes under the armpits (homemade, she guesses) and khaki pants that are a little high-water on him. His 13th birthday is in just a few short weeks, and he's already showing telltale signs of being a teenager.

“What’s up Ellie? You’re looking at me like mom does before she cries and tells me I’m growing up to be a handsome young man.”

Lena shakes her head and smiles faintly. “Just thinking. Sit down, I’ll put some pasta on.”

As he walks behind her towards the island, she catches a whiff of something acrid. Grabbing him by his jumper, she pulls him closer and sticks her nose to his collar much to his distaste.

“God, you smell like an ashtray. When did you start smoking again?” He shrugs one shoulder, cowed, and says nothing. “Smoking is an ugly habit, Grover.”

“Okay, Jesus. I had one cigarette after school, sue me.”

“Say that enough, somebody’s going to actually do it one day.” He rolls his eyes, but it’s good-natured. This has been their routine of the last few weeks. While Nora works graveyard at the diner, Grover comes over, does yard work, and gets fed. Lena needles him about his bad habits and makes him sit to do his school assignments. His resistance feels more token now than he did in the past, and she actually thinks that she catches him enjoying schoolwork once or twice. He’s even admitted to her that he doesn’t _hate_ his poetry class and that his teacher, Mr. Olszewki, isn’t a total asshole.

While he fishes his math book out of his bookbag, Lena salts the boiling water and adds the pasta. There’s music playing softly out of the speaker on the counter, _old people shit_ as Grover had once deemed it (‘You tell me not to smoke,’ he’d said to her once, pointedly. ‘But you love this guy and he definitely eats cigarettes for breakfast.’ She’d explained to him patiently that Tom Waits Is Not a Role Model, and was secretly pleased by his interest). He’s punching numbers into an old graphing calculator and she’s reminding him quietly to do solve the equation in the parentheses first. When the pasta is done she dumps pesto and parmesan cheese over it and he inhales it in 30 seconds, of course, and asks for more.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Grover murmurs out of the blue. He’s scratching at his scalp with the eraser of his pencil and his second bowl is sitting beside him, half finished.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. The winter dance is coming up soon, for school.”

Lena winces. She finds the whole idea of middle school dances completely preposterous, as if you would want to actually encourage a bunch of hormone-addled children tipping over the sweet precipice of puberty to touch each other in a dark room. Her opinion is in no way colored by her own 8th grade formal, where Gabby Hascombe had thrown a used tampon at her and then all the kids at school called her Tampon Face for the rest of the year.

“Do you have somebody you’re thinking about asking?”

“Well,” Grover blows at his floppy bangs and rests his chin on the heel of his hand. “There’s this guy in class, Tatum. We played little league together last year and we kind of got to third base at the end-of-league sleepover--”

“Grover, _ugh,”_

“Whatever, sorry! He’s cute, and we still text sometimes. But I’m kind of a loser and he’s like, going to make the varsity baseball team next year in high school for sure. So I think I might just go with Ava Blaustein.”

It’s a lot of information at once, even for Lena.

“Are you upset that you can’t ask Tatum?”

“I mean, part of me is like ‘Grover, whatever, everybody at school already knows you’re a fag’, like may as well? But at the same time, I still have to highschool with them next year and I don’t want to get the shit kicked out of me.”

Softening completely, Lena reaches over to shut Grover’s textbook with his work inside. They’ve made good headway on it, and he can finish it later with Nora. She touches his shoulders and gently turns him to face her.

“Grover, you don’t know that they know that you’re gay.”

“Yes I do, dude.” Huffing out a sigh, Grover snatches his phone out of the purple Jansport at this feet and unlocks it, flipping around for a moment before he hands it to Lena. On the screen is a picture of a locker with words spray painted across it. Lena squints.

“‘Grover Dudley is a faggot with no dad and a bad haircut’--how did they fit all of this on your locker?”

Grover shrugs.

“Do you want me to say something to your mom so she can talk to the school?” Lena inquires gently. She figures the answer will be no, Grover usually talks to her about stuff like this in confidence. But there's less harm in asking than not.

“Nah. Telling mom will just worry her, and I don't need more trouble at school than I’ve already got. Plus I mean,” He gestures at the phone in Lena’s hand. “I guess they're not _wrong.”_

 _“_ No,” Lena agrees “They seem to have you on a technicality. Although I happen to like your hair.” She reaches over and gives it a kind ruffle and he laughs, ducking away from her.

There’s a beat of silence before Grover says, “I guess I just want to know if it gets better, later on. Or easier, I guess. And if people get nicer.”

“Well,” Lena picks her words carefully. “I don’t know if people get nicer, but they get better at hiding how mean they are. And I think it does get better, although I wager that’s not very comforting for you to hear now.”

Grover is silent, using his fork to pick at a leftover noodle in his bowl and pointedly not looking up to meet Lena’s gaze.

“The bottom line is, you’re a smart, funny, intensely kind young man, the kind of boy anybody would be lucky to know. That’s much more than I’m sure you could say about many of your schoolmates. You had to grow up quicker than some, and it’s rough now, but they _will_ catch up. Eventually.”  
She’s scarcely done speaking when Grover twists around to give her a fierce hug. There’s no hesitation, just a knee-jerk instinct to wrap him up in her arms and press her face against the crown of his head. Underneath the cigarette smoke he smells like campfire and cheap shampoo and the lingering cold from outside

“Thank you Ellie.” He murmurs. “I love my mom, but I don’t think she really understands this stuff. I honestly don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.” He goes back to his pasta, spirits rising, but Lena stays quiet. His words rattle around in her mind for the rest of the night.

***

“Hi.” Kara is smiling sleepily, lying on her side and bundled in a blanket when she calls. The flash on her camera is on so her face is illuminated by a bright, white light that causes her to squint.

“Hi yourself. It’s been a little while.” For her part Lena is also buried almost totally in her bedding. It’s 1 AM there, which means it’s 10 in National City, or ‘way past my bedtime’, as Kara would say.

“Yeah, it’s been kind of a hectic week. You know, my computer broke after I kicked it through my ceiling into the next apartment up. My neighbors were so freaked out and I had to go up and be like, ‘look, my sister’s girlfriend caught me jilling off on FaceTime, I sort of freaked out’, and then they were so understanding. But I had to get that fixed and it was a whole ordeal, of course.”

“Send me the bill when I come home. I can’t help but feel a little responsible.”

“No, no, it was mostly me. I have heard that those who don’t learn from the past are doomed to repeat it.”

Lena snorts at that and Kara beams, pleased. There’s a moment of comfortable silence in which Kara gazes dolefully at Lena and Lena simply basks in her attention, sleepy and warm.

“I miss you.” Kara sighs finally.

“I miss you too. So much.”

“Did you see Grover today?”

“Yes. He’s concerned about the upcoming school dance. He wants to ask a boy who he got to 3rd base with at a little league sleepover last year, but knows he can’t. And kids at school are being cruel to him.”

Kara looks extremely alarmed. “He’s 12!”

“I know.”

“Last year he was even younger!”

“Look, I know. And I feel horrible for him. He’s so confused and lonely but you can just _tell_ he doesn’t want to admit it.”

“Are you going to bring it up to Nora?”

Lena heaves a large sigh, rubbing a hand over her face. “I don’t know. On one hand I feel like it’s my responsibility as the adult in this situation, on the other I’m afraid of betraying his confidence. But Nora wants me to come over tomorrow and help her sort through some stuff in her garage while Grover is at school, so I might just test the waters. See what she knows.”

Kara’s face is brimming with affection and understanding. Lena feels a reciprocal feeling bloom wildflower-strong in her heart, wild and bright. There are words on the tip of her tongue that she knows she can’t say, not while they continue to exist in this limbo of innuendo-laden phone calls and text messages. She can’t wait until she’s home and able to climb through the cotton ocean of Kara’s bedsheets, rest her head next to Kara’s, call this person her own.

Instead of expressing any of this, she says, “How was your day?” And listens quietly and Kara talks until they both drift off, parallel to one another. 

***

Nora’s garage turns out to be a complete disaster and they abandon the project about an hour in, after discovering a shoebox of old photos and spending 20 minutes cooing over baby photos of Grover. They end up taking it inside, spreading the photos across the coffee table along with coffee and lunch, and picking through them one by one. Nora is swept up in the nostalgia, remembering lost teeth and first step with a kind of acute clarity that Lena could never hope to possess. One photo catches her particular interest, appearing to be of Nora as a teenager and an older boy posing by the hood of a car.

“That’s Mackenzie, that’s Grover’s dad.” Her finger lingers on the young man’s face for a moment. He’s handsome in a kind of scrawny, towheaded, dirty way. In the photograph Nora is probably 13 or 14, her dark curly hair akimbo around her face and eyes squinting toward the sun. Mackenzie is next to her in a muscle shirt with a cigarette loose between his lips. He’s got one arm crossed over his chest and one around Nora’s shoulders, pulling her close.

Nora hums quietly and holds the photograph in front of her for a moment before pulling it close and pressing it against her heart. It’s such a gentle action that it catches Lena off guard. Her friend has always referred to Grover explicitly as having _no dad._ Yet here she is, 50% of Grover’s genome on heart like an old friend. “He was my first love.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, when we met I was 12 and he was 15. He had just dropped out of school to join a fishing rig in Portland, which I of course thought was _so_ cool. When he came back to Snake’s Canyon a couple years later he had a thousand dollars in his pocket and a minor heroin problem.” There’s so many emotions on Nora’s face when she looks up at Lena that they’ve formed into one grey, pensive cloud. She’s exposing herself, her invisible tether to the past, but she doesn’t seem perturbed by it. Relief colors her features, tinged in the corners of her mouth. “I thought I could fix him. Stupid, of course. Every couple of years he gets sober, writes Grover a letter, patches things over. Then...he gets tired of being dope sick, and. You know.” Nora shrugs a shoulder. “I think he’s living in a flophouse right now, but who knows. He could be in prison too.”

“How do you stand it?”

“When Grover was born I--well, I wanted so badly for Mackenzie to step up, to be a real _man_ for us, and I wanted him to be there for Grover ‘n be there for me. I loved him so much, and I had this...this baby, this human being that he’d just left me with. I was angry about that for a long time. But,” Lena observes as Nora sets the photograph in the shoebox amongst all the rest, and then picks up the stack beside them and moves them on top, effectively shuffling them together. The picture of her and Mackenzie is lost again, swimming in the shoebox, just like that. “People will disappoint you, and they’ll hurt you even if you really wish they wouldn’t, or if you feel like they _should_ love you and that’s not how people act when they love people. I don’t know. Am I making any sense?”

Trying desperately to discipline her face into something less raw, Lena nods. When Nora reaches over to rest her hand against Lena’s and offers her an understanding smile she knows she’s failed.

“Luckily, we don’t have to let ourselves be defined by the sins of our past or the people we thought would love us. I have Grover now, and my life is overflowing with light.”

Lena feels stricken, like Nora’s pinned her into her place with her words. There’s a strong, mutual understanding pulling them together by an invisible thread. She sees another picture of Nora sitting on top of the picture pile, young, in a hospital bed holding a baby in her arms. Mackenzie isn’t there, but there’s another woman sitting next to her. Lena assumes it’s her mother.

“I can’t believe you were so young when you had him.” She sighs, picking up the photograph to look at it closer.

“Yup. Freshman year of high school. I was in history class when I started having labor pains.”  
“Really?”

“Yeah. We had to memorize US presidents for a test the next week. That’s actually how Grover got his name--lucky kid, if he’d been born a month later I would’ve called him Merriweather.”

Lena sets the photograph into the box with the rest and Nora gently covers it with the lid, slipping it under the coffee table.

“Nora, has Grover talked to you at all about...school?” She’s trying to broach the topic as tactfully as she can, but she doesn’t know what Grover has and hasn’t told Nora about what goes on in class. By the way her face distorts in apparent antipathy, Lena figures she’s at least guessed.

“I know he has a hard time, and he doesn’t get along with other kids very well. He doesn’t talk to me about it, but I--I mean, I’m not stupid. He never wants to have parties for his birthday, he’s secretive, impulsive, sad, a lot of the time.” She laughs, but it’s humorless. “You know, my mom had me when she was a teenager, too. My dad wasn’t around either. And she died of lung cancer when Grover was 6. All I ever wanted for my son was for things to be different for him. To break the cycle, y’know? I imagined that despite everything I would be able to give him an easier path. Maybe a simpler one than I had. After my mom died I thought we might move to Portland and start over, maybe even put Grover into one of those fancy private schools. But,” She shrugs one shoulder and shakes her head as if trying to ward the thoughts away and ground herself back into reality. “Things don’t always work out exactly the way you want them to, right? I’m sorry, I’m just rambling on about unhappy things like an idiot. I’d better get this all cleaned up, anyway.”

Lena just squeezes her hand and watches her as she gets up from the couch and begins to gather their dishes. She looks at the shoebox under the table, so full with _what-ifs_ that they’re slipping out from under the lid. She thinks about Nora, standing next to Mackenzie, squinting against the sun, face flushed with love. Nora, holding her newborn baby in her arms with her mother next to her, young and full of hope and naive as a child, unaware of what’s to come. What they will eventually be to each other.

Then she thinks about herself and she thinks about Lex, her sweet older brother who taught her to play chess. And the Lex who came that day to kill her with hate in his heart. There’s a picture of them somewhere as children, frozen forever in some impossible moment of love, she’s sure of it. There are likely many. For the first time in years, that knowledge brings her a kind of inexplicable peace.

She breathes deeply once, then she rises to help Nora with the dishes.

_iv. february_

On Grover’s birthday, Nora fixes a feast of lobster, fries, and a german chocolate cake for dessert. He gets a new phone from Nora, a nice pair of winter boots from Lena, and they spend the evening watching his favorite movies on the couch. There are no school friends present, but if he minds he doesn’t say anything.

It’s a good night full of love and warmth and on her way home Kara sends her a topless picture which is...incredible, obviously. All in all it’s a good night precipitating a good week. Until Maggie and Alex call.

“Luthor, we have a problem.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“You’re right, it’s not.” Alex’s voice is full of barely-contained contempt, and even Maggie looks a little haggard. From the chromish background and Alex’s outfit, they seem to be in the DEO. Something about this feels off to Lena. She sits up a little straighter on the couch. “Can you explain this to me?”

Alex holds up her cellphone to the screen. Lena squints. It’s a FaceBook page. It’s Grover’s FaceBook page. It’s Grover’s facebook page with a selfie of her, Grover, and Nora above the caption _birthday dinner :)_.

“Fuck.” Lena whispers. “Fuck me.”

“Yeah, fuck you. What made you think this was a good idea? Blonde hair might keep the general public from recognizing you but if Cadmus or Lex finds this, your ass is toast. They might have already found it. For all we know, your position has been totally compromised.”

“God, I’m so sorry. He just wanted a picture with his new phone, I didn’t think anything of it.”

“Well, think harder next time.” Alex snaps, looking surly. Maggie puts a placating hand on her shoulder and she falters a little. “We’ve been waiting for this chance for 3 months. We almost have them.” She leans forward and rubs at her forehead.

“Alex is being very doom and gloom but we’re not totally up shit creek.” Maggie interjects, moving the camera closer to her face. “We think we know where Cadmus is hiding Lex and we’re planning to move in on Saturday. And we can’t say for _sure_ that you’ve been compromised--but we can’t rule it out, either. So we figured, for everybody’s safety, we should send Supergirl down there to keep watch.”

Lena’s heart picks up it’s pace. On cue, Alex wretches the phone back towards her face, looking stern.

“This isn’t going to be...be... _funny business hour_ , though, okay? This is a punishment--stop smiling! She’s there to make sure you don’t get hurt. And the closer you can keep Nora and Grover to you two, the better.” Maggie is nodding her head. Lena looks like a simpering idiot. “You’re a lost cause. You and my sister both. I wish you two had never met each other, and I mean that.”

A door opens behind them and Kara enters in her Supergirl suit, smug smile on her face. “Hi Alex, Hi Maggie.” She fixes Lena with a dopey grin. “Hey Lena.”

“Stop smiling at each other! Oh my God. Okay, so Supergirl will fly in tonight and stay until Saturday. Guardian will take care of things in National City while she’s gone. Sound good, Supergirl?”

“Yeah totally. Hey Lena, did you get the picture I sent you last night?”

Alex groans and ends the call.

***

If Grover and Nora think it’s bizarre when Lena comes over unannounced that afternoon and checks in all of their closets and bathrooms, they don’t say anything. Grover does say something, however, when she calls them that night just to say hello.

“You okay?” He asks. “You’re acting weirder than usual.”

“Ha-ha. I just read a news article about a guy who’s neighbor was living in his attic for three months and I got paranoid. Haven’t heard anybody creeping about have you?”

“I told you to stay off the internet after you’ve had your nighttime wine.”

“Cheeky! I think it’s your bedtime after all, young man.”

“Yeah. Talk to you tomorrow, Ellie.”

“Goodnight, Grover.”  
She hangs up the phone and flops down into bed.

***

Kara comes knocking on her bedroom window that night, as she knew she would. There’s nothing that would school the thrill out of the bottom of Lena’s stomach as she unlatches and opens it and lets Kara float through, ethereal as a dream. Immediately they’re touching like magnets, hands on hands and skin to skin. Kara presses her forehead against Lena’s fervently, cupping her face and moulding their bodies together so closely it knocks Lena into her bed.

“Nice to see you too.” She chuckles weakly. Kara is staring at her like she’s a vast freshwater pond in the middle of the desert. Lena feels a hot, embarrassing blush cover her neck and her cheeks.

“You feel amazing.” Kara whispers trance-like, and places an amorous open-mouthed kiss in the juncture between her jaw and her neck. There’s a strangled moan that Lena will not admit comes from her, and then her partner is kissing her again and again--on her neck, her cheek. They’re needy, parching things that Lena feels like a string being pulled between her legs. “I’ve been thinking about this for three weeks.” She admits. And then, “Longer, actually.”

“Oh, God.” Kara tilts her head fully toward her face and they’re kissing then, mouth to mouth. It’s urgent and undignified. Lena’s hands feel like they’re everywhere, Kara’s ass, her hips. The older woman pushes her a little and they tumble to the bed in a heap of limbs, pushing and pulling and grasping for purchase on one another.

Sitting up, Kara’s pulling Lena’s tank top over her head like a woman possessed. When she finally shucks it free she squints against the darkness in the room, reaching out a hand to touch the curve of Lena’s breast. There’s moonlight spilling in through her window but it’s still dim enough that she looks almost spectre-like. They’re facing each other now, Kara half in Lena’s lap, Lena in only a pair of underwear. The urgency of the moment is gone, replaced with something more subdued, charged with something different before. Long from the image of fevered confidence she’d been projecting earlier, Kara looks almost nervous.

“I’ve only had sex twice before,” She blurts. “And I’m 90% sure the second time didn’t fully count.”

Lena blinks back at her owlishly.

“Maggie told me not to bring it up right away. Or...at all. But I didn’t want you to think I’m weird or--or bad at...doing it.”

Lena reaches out and grabs Kara around her lower half, bringing her to sit fully in her lap. She rucks up Kara’s T-shirt and pulls it all the way off, only a little surprised to not find a bra underneath. She presses into her until there’s no space left between their torsos, listening to Kara’s audible and almost painful gasp as their nipples slip against each other and Lena leaves a searing, open mouthed kiss on her shoulder.

“I think you’re going to be fine.” She hums against Kara’s skin, nuzzling her way up to taste the exposed place under her ear. Her partner moans gently, raising in octave as Lena sucks her earlobe firmly.  “I think everything’s going to be fine.” Her arms wrap around Kara’s middle and she tilts to bring her flatly onto her back. Kara has never been this weightless or this pliable. Every time they’d touch as friends she was always rock-solid, all sinewy muscle covering steel. Now, as Lena slots her hips fully between her legs, she’s soft and squirming with barely-muted delight beneath her.

Lena can feel every sigh and giggle hot against her ear. Kara’s body is pure reciprocal reaction--her hips buck up and grind at Lena’s middle, her hands grab and release at her back, hips, her ass. When Lena moves to kiss down her body her hands move up to grab desperately at the headboard, legs spreading just an inch wider to allow her room to move. Every wet, open mouthed kiss necessitates a moan from the woman below her. When she moves to suck a pink nipple into her mouth and release it with a _pop_ she thinks Kara might actually jerk them both off the bed with the force of her motion.

More kisses plot a path down Kara’s body, from her breasts down the holy plane of her stomach and to her hip bones that jut out _just-so._ Lena intersperses them with rough bites and small, exploratory licks. By the time she’s sucking at the soft skin of Kara’s inner thigh, there’s a rapidly spreading wet spot noticeable on the crotch of her panties. She moves toward it with near single minded intent.

She has both of Kara’s thighs framing her face and grasped in her hands when she licks, full and long, from the base of her all the way to nearly the top of her underwear. There’s a potent taste under the cotton, something Lena wants more of, and by the way Kara keens almost desperately above her the feeling seems to be mutual. One finger hooks over the edge of her underwear and she pulls it to the side, just enough that part of her wetness is exposed, places a small kiss to the edge of it, and licks a little at the apparent moisture, humming.

Kara releases a deep, shuddering moan and one hand flies to grasp at her hair. Her body stills underneath Lena’s ministrations and with a soft, halting voice she says, “Um, Lena?”

Lena’s head pops up instantly, releasing the edge of her underwear with a small snap. “Is something wrong?”

“No! No, nothing’s um, wrong.” Kara is sitting up on her elbows now, looking a little shy. “I just--can we table that, for now?”

“The sex?”

“No, jeeze no, not the...definitely not the sex. C’mere.” She grasps at Lena’s forearms and hauls her up into their prior position. Lena’s hips are between her legs, rubbing slightly against her raw--and now partially exposed--center. Kara shudders a bit, running her hands through Lena’s hair and tugging lightly. Experimentally, Lena rolls her hips again, harder this time, eliciting an even stronger reaction. “Um,” She hums, rubbing her lips together. “I just meant the, uh,” Another roll of the hips and this time Kara pushes back, no longer passive, causing them both to moan. “The oral element was a little overwhelming for right now. But maybe we could,” Their bodies are moving together in tandem now, Kara’s torso still a little spit-slick from Lena’s previous attentions, her legs raising slightly to wrap around her lover’s hips. “Do other things-- _oh.”_

Lena’s hand is wandering down between their bodies until it finds purchase between Kara’s legs and beneath her own rolling hips. She rubs her briefly over the damp cotton of her underwear and then moves to grab at the elastic waist, tearing them down. They only make it to Kara’s ankles before she’s back, feeling her now exposed and wet under her fingertips. Kara throws her head to the side and cries as Lena gently runs over the length of her, then rolls her clit between her thumb and fingers.

They’re as close as two people can possibly be, tangled in each other, smelling of each other, slick with saliva and sweat and the heat from between Kara’s legs, smeared slightly over the insides of her thighs by Lena’s hand. Kara’s mouth is panting next to Lena’s ear, every small sound she makes driving her to be bolder.

“Try just one first.” Kara sighs, feeling Lena’s fingers at her entrance. When Lena enters her, finding her warm and wet and open, they both groan low and deep. Their tandem movements haven’t stopped but Lena leaves the single finger inside of her still, allowing Kara to roll against it, to adjust. When she asks for another Lena presses into her again, eagerly, moving more and causing the bed to shift and groan under the combined motion of them. Kara has both her arms and her legs wrapped tightly around Lena’s body, leaving not enough room for her to really move in and out, so she grinds into her the best she can, picking up the pace until the only sounds in the dark room are the groaning of the bed, Kara’s soft moans, Lena’s occasional murmuring. She can tell Kara is getting close by the way her sounds increase in pitch and the movement of her hips grows stuttered, frantic.

“One more,” she gasps out.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I wanna be--I want to feel you closer to me.”

So she does, and when she slots her third finger inside completely, Kara comes with a wail so long and so loud that Lena swears she hears birds fly out of the trees above her house.

Later, after lying tangled in each other, Kara slips her hand down Lena’s panties and gets her off, messy and uncoordinated. They fall asleep like that, naked and warm, tangled in each other’s arms.

 

***

The next morning, Lena has 6 missed calls from Nora. It’s a quarter past 9 when they manage to roll out of bed after kissing, giggling, kissing some more. Lena feels so strangely at peace laying in bed with Kara draped over her naked body that it makes the sensation of total dread feel that much more shocking.

“Lena?” Kara mumbles, rising up to place a hand on her naked back. “Is everything okay?”

She doesn’t respond, too busy hitting the _call back_ button with a shaky hand. It only takes one ring before she hears Nora’s frantic voice on the other end of the line. Admittedly, there’s still a part of Lena that hoping this isn’t anything serious and that it had been 6 butt dials. Or maybe Grover had gotten into trouble and Nora needed advice.

“ _Ellie,_ it’s Grover.” Nora isn’t even trying to keep the hysterical edge out of her voice. “He wasn’t in his bed this morning when I woke him up for school. He’s--he’s gone.”

Swinging her legs out of bed, Lena begins to dig around in her drawers for something to wear. She’s pulling one leg through a pair of long underwear with the phone pressed between her cheek and shoulder when she glances over to see Kara looking at her with concern in her features.

‘ _Grover’,_ she mouths. Kara understands and springs out of bed, digging around in her own duffel for her clothes.

“Slow down Nora--are you sure he didn’t just go into school early?”

“I’m at the school right now. He hasn’t gone to any of this classes. I called the police but they said he’s probably just run away again and they can’t do anything until it’s been 24 hours.” Nora sniffs, letting out a brief, ragged sob. “But I just have a gut feeling that that’s not it. Something’s wrong. He’s not picking up his phone.”

“Okay, Nora, I want you to go back to your house. You should be there in case he comes back. And call everybody who Grover is friendly with at school--that kid Tatum, Ava, and anybody else. I’m going to get in the truck and go looking for him.” She glances at Kara, already bundled up and pulling on her boots at the end of the bed. “We’re going to find him Nora, don’t worry.”

 

***

 

They sit quietly in the cab of the truck as Lena traverses the snowy roads down increasingly desolate paths. Kara puts her hand on her thigh as soon as they get in and doesn’t move it away the entire ride. “Where are we going?” She inquires gently. Lena continues to focus on the road ahead.

“I think I know where he is.”

 

***

The house is just as remote and run down as the first time they had found Grover hiding out in it all those months ago. Nestled in the middle of a copse of trees, it looks fairly innocuous, like any typical abandoned vacation home frequented by teenagers. There’s graffiti on part of the exterior, and several of the front windows are blown out like broken teeth.

They sit in the cab of the truck for the moment pulled up in front of the house. Lena watches her breath condensate in front of her, a numb feeling creeping up from the bottoms of her feet.

“We don’t know that this is Cadmus, Lena.” Kara begins gently, squeezing at her thigh. “You said he has a history of running away, maybe it’s just--”

Just then there’s a broken scream coming from the interior of the house, followed by a man’s harsh tone and a solid _crack._ Lena forces the door of the cab open frantically and begins to run toward the entrance, adrenaline surging through her veins even as she hears Kara  shouting after her. She will not be the reason Grover dies, she won’t, she _won’t--_

The front door gives way easily to her force, slamming against the adjacent wall and causing some plaster to fall from the decaying ceiling. The interior is nearly bare, there’s a few items of covered up furniture hanging about, and a doorway to her left to the adjacent room. Behind it, she can hear the muffled sound of a child crying.

“I don’t know who that is! I don’t know anybody named Lena! Who the fuck is Lex Luthor, dude! Let me go, I just wanna see my mom, I wanna see my mom!”

There’s no salient thoughts running through her head when she pivots towards the door and throws it open, no expectation of what she’ll see when she does. Somewhere deep in her psyche she recognizes this as the room where they’d found Grover that first night, curled up in his sleeping bag reading a comic book. Now he’s in the corner, tied to a chair, blood in his mouth, all over his precious face and creeping into his hairline. Around him are two men dressed in all black, both with guns. At his feet there’s a puddle of blood with a single tooth laying in it.

Lena sees red.

There’s a flurry of action so quick that Lena won’t be able to fully tease apart the nuance of it until later when she’s helping Kara file a report for the DEO. The two men pivot, Grover screams her name, Kara comes in behind her, shouting also, a gun goes off and she feels a bullet tear through her right shoulder. The full weight of her body hits the ground and she struggles to stay conscious, although her vision is a tunnel becoming more and more narrow with each passing second. She sees both men hit the ground, and then Kara crouching beside Grover, smearing some of the blood off of his cheeks, untying him. He opens his mouth to say something and she can observe where his front tooth is missing.

She can feel the blood leaving her body, the steady slow-down of her heartbeat. Her last cognizant thought is that it will be hours before she can get to a hospital, and even after that, who knows. At least Grover is safe.

For the second time in less than a year, she slips into blissful unconsciousness.

_v. September_

“Ms. Luthor?” There’s a quiet knock on Lena’s office door. She scarcely looks up from the contracts in front of her on her desk, rubbing a pencil absent-mindedly at the large, newly-formed scar on her shoulder.

“Come in.”

Jess pokes her head in and casts a disapproving gaze at Lena’s arm. She sets the pencil down guiltily.

“Ms. Dudley sent over Grover’s school pictures. She said to let her know which ones you’d like to order.” Jess steps into the office, large manilla envelope half-extended. Lena immediately puts the contracts and takes the photographs from her assistant.

“Did you look at them?” Jess nods her assent. “Are they good?”

“They’re darling, ma’am.”

She pulls the first one out, a large portrait of Grover from the waist up, grinning eagerly against the typical sky-blue marbled background. His hair is subdued and slicked back, and he’s dressed in a Dartmouth green polo with his school’s crest and _Waynflete School - Portland, ME_ embossed on his breast. He’s leaning forward slightly, a little manic looking, and she can see the hint of a scraggly mustache coming in on his top lip.

“Order the whole package, plus whatever Nora wants, at at least two of those little photo books that they make.”

“Yes ma’am. Ms. Dudley also left a message letting you know that Grover is adjusting very well to his new school.”

“Well, yes. He’s been beating me in Words With Friends for the last month. I’m beginning to regret sending him.”

“Kara Danvers called, and she seems to have forgotten that I have full access to your voicemail. The message she left was too vulgar for me to repeat, so I’ve had it transcribed.” She takes a sheet of paper and sets it down on Lena’s desk. Lena glances at it, blushes, turns it upside down.

“Show Ms. Danvers in when she arrives and make sure we’re uninterrupted until she leaves.”

“Yes ma’am.” Jess agrees, looking a little green.

“If that’s all, Jess.” Lena is already pulling her contracts back in front of her, tucking in for a second time. It’s going to be a long day. They’ve all been long days, since she returned, full of logistics and catching up. Jess takes the dismissal for what it is and turns on her heel, beginning to move towards the door. As she’s slipping out she turns one last time, clearing her throat.

“Oh, and Ms. Luthor?” Lena looks up. “I know I’ve said it before but...I’m glad you’re back and in one piece. This place was falling apart without you.”

Lena smiles. “Thank you, Jess. I’m happy to be here.”

The door shuts softly behind her assistant. Lena hums, glances down at her contracts, and then back at her desk. What had once been bare was now covered with photographs--of her and Kara, the picture of Nora, Grover, and herself, a painting Grover had done in art class.

She sighs happily, and she gets back to work.

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BONUS EPILOGUE: Grover ends up being like 10 feet tall and super brawny, studies comp lit at Stanford, and manages to grow out his mustache into a pretty gnarly beard. Nora makes them take corny fam photos every few years at a Sears in Portland. His jumpers still wear out at the armpits. He marries his Greek Languages TA and babysits for Kara and Lena every weekend. Nora buys a diner in Portland and names it after herself. They all vacation together in Vermont every winter. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk!


End file.
